


Le Fleur du Mal

by Shimba97



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anathema Device Ships Aziraphale/Crowley, Angst, Angst Poetry, Angst and Porn, Angst and Romance, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Anathema Device Friendship, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Baudelaire, Books, Erotic Poetry, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Good Friend Anathema Device, Heaven, Heaven & Hell, Heaven vs Hell, Hell, Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Literature, Love, Love Confessions, Mentioned Anathema Device, Poetry, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), References to Oscar Wilde, Sad, Sad and Happy, Sex, Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:54:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26112955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shimba97/pseuds/Shimba97
Summary: Aziraphale could call himself a good angel. Certainly, the perfection that a celestial being has of nature had lost it in time. First with food - oh what a wonderful discovery! - then much later with the oldest of the arts.Sex had always been a taboo word for him, able to make him embarrassed and blush up to his ears, he absolutely denied that he could stoop so low. After all, he was an angel, but if you think about it, even the angels hierarchically more powerful than him were not perfect.Gabriel, Michael, Sandolphon had wanted a war for more than 6 millennia. What pure and innocent being wanted violence?That is why he did not expect to fall into the trap of temptation, especially with someone who did not believe he could go that far with him.The most suitable subject for those sinful temptations, more luxurious, more ambiguous, more... everything, was Crowley.So why did he find himself kissing a young woman whom he esteemed, moreover, a woman who practiced the occult, an activity that was not well seen in the High Plains?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Anathema Device
Kudos: 3





	Le Fleur du Mal

**Le fleur du mal**

Aziraphale could call himself a good angel. Certainly, the perfection that a celestial being has by nature had lost it in time. First with food - oh what a wonderful discovery! - then much later with the oldest of the arts.

Sex had always been a taboo word for him, able to make him embarrassed and blush up to his ears, he absolutely denied that he could stoop so low. After all, he was an angel, but if you think about it, even the angels hierarchically more powerful than him were not perfect.

Gabriel, Michael, Sandolphon had wanted a war for more than 6 millennia. What pure and innocent being wanted violence?

For that very reason, however, he did not expect to fall into the trap of temptation, especially with someone who did not believe he could go that far with him.

The most suitable subject for those sinful temptations, more luxurious, more ambiguous, more... everything, was Crowley.

So why did you find yourself kissing a young woman you esteemed, moreover, a woman who practised the occult, an activity that was not viewed favourably in the High Plains?

Anathema Device had helped them to stop the Apocalypse, thanks also to his ava's book,

Agnes Nutter, the last witch who lived.

His intelligence and passion for books had led them to establish a good relationship of friendship and esteem, which he believed to be only intellectual.

Yet when he felt how she was touching him, with passion and a pinch of hesitation, he began to doubt it. He had never seen a woman's body, not all of it at least. He had always avoided finding himself in situations he said were unpleasant, shutting his eyes or running away directly.

Besides, he was a heavenly being, he shouldn't have had certain interests, certain drives! For God's sake, what was he doing? He understood perfectly well that everything was wrong, but his human body could not detach itself, he could not take a step back.

Ah if they had seen it! What would your superiors have thought? And you?

His mind was clouded, however, by the sensations and curiosity that grew every second more and more.

He could barely remember how they got there.

As every Thursday, Aziraphale had invited Anathema to drink tea in his bookshop, chatting about a book that at least one of them had read and exchanging opinions about it.

Oh dear, I thought we could talk about this today" placed a little booklet on the low table.

«Le fleur du mal, by Baudelaire» she read, bending her neck «Aziraphale, did you read one of the cursed poets?»

The angel blushed, smoothing his tartan suit «oh come on, I'm a librarian, I know all the books!»

«Sure» she said amused, wearing her glasses «I read this too» she sat on the sofa, sipping her cup of steaming tea «it's a collection of very deep poems» she saw him sitting next to her.

«I still can't understand why they called them that clumsy nickname»

«They were innovative, nonconformist poets, I'm not surprised. Women who knew how to cure illnesses were considered witches» he made a grimace «what barbarians»

«I can only agree with you, darling» he began to leaf through the book «so, shall we begin?»

And so they spent a good part of the afternoon commenting on several poems, having a pleasant conversation, in some ways brilliant.

Aziraphale turned the page, reading the title « _The death of lovers_. I do not remember having it read» he frowned. Usually he was aware of every tome, especially ancient ones.

«It's sad» she began «as you can well read from the title, it speaks of the death that hangs over the happiness of two lovers».

«Oh» he looked down, reading pieces «but there's also...»

«And as you have seen there is also an angel» she smiled, then she became serious «is that really so?» to the angel's questioning gaze she specified «when we die. Do any of you really come to give our souls peace?»

Surely that question was particular, but from such a woman one could not expect anything else «Most of the time it is like that, but there are exceptions like wicked men. They are immediately picked up by the Hell».

«Where do you think I'm going?» he asked point-blank, making the angel's face rise up.

«You're going to heaven, of course»

«I practice the occult. I know you send these kind of people down»

«Oh Anathema, but you're not a witch!» he saw her electrocute him with her eyes «I mean, you don't make potions or concoctions and you don't curse people and-»

«Aziraphale» hissed low and threateningly. That was not a good sign.

«C-Come on Anathema, I'm trying to... oh alright, I give up!» he leaned disconsolate against the backrest.

«You stayed in the Middle Ages, angel» he took off his glasses «even if I don't make concoctions I have ideals, a _little_ different from yours» he brought the dark rod to his lips «it's sad to be immortal»

«I beg your pardon?»

«I mean you and Crowley will see everyone you get attached to die» she didn't have her tact, sometimes it was even rough «it must be tough. Has it happened to you before?» she asked.

Wow, that was a big question. He decided to be honest «yes, it's happened to me before»

«And did you get over it?»

He smiled sadly. Had he got over it? Of course not. But then again, he had to get over it sooner or later.

«I resigned myself in the end» he shrugged «as you said being immortal has its pros and cons. That's why I try not to get attached to anyone»

«Oh Aziraphale... it's very sad» he saw her reach out and shake his hand. She was human too, she would have lost her friend. She smiled, trying to recover «in any case, it's still too early to think about it» he gave her a slap on the back.

«Angel?»

«Yes, dear?»

«When the time comes, can you guide me?»

He looked at her. Her black eyes were even deeper than usual, seeing a silent prayer.

He brought his hand to her lips, leaving her a kiss «but of course, don't worry».

Anathema smiled, remaining with his hand in midair «can I ask you a question?» he saw him nod «have you ever kissed a human?»

The angel became immobilized. Was that sweat you felt on your forehead?

«Yes»

«Oh, that surprises me!» his eyes lit up with curiosity «at whom?»

«T-This question is inappropriate» he dried his forehead with a cotton handkerchief out of his pocket. That witch was a comrade, that's all!

«Let's go Aziraphale, I want to know» raised an eyebrow «let's be friends» showed his most sincere smile. _Sincere my ass._

«It's been with a man» he stammered.

«CROWLEY?!»

«Crowley is not human! Besides, we're just friends!» he said in too much of a hurry.

«Mh- mh» was his answer «then if you haven't been with him with whom?»

Aziraphale took a deep breath, closing her eyes «Oscar. Oscar Wilde»

He expected an exalted scream, but instead there was only silence on his part. When he opened his eyes again he found his surprised expression in front of him. And totally upset.

«Wait... you mean that Wilde?»

«Umh... yes?»

«That Wilde was born in 1854 and died in 1900».

«Exactly»

«That Wilde...» he put his hand on his face and said «you kissed Oscar Wilde»

«Could you kindly stop repeating what I say?» he said nervously. He had been caught off guard with that reaction, not to mention the monosyllables.

«You kissed Oscar Wilde and you liked it»

«You can't know» he looked away.

«You just gave me confirmation. And how you liked it» saw him blush even more.

«Enough, I get it!» he said exasperatedly, carrying a hand in front of his eyes «you wanted to know, now let's change the subject, it's extremely embarrassing!»

«But this way it's unfair»

«...What?»

«You have kissed a man but not a woman» she murmured cautiously «you can't say you liked it if you haven't tried the fair sex».

His ears caught on fire «this is depravation!» his heart was beating fast «I am an angel, I have duties and limits and what are you doing?» she sat even closer, looking at him _too close, too close_.

«I know a saying, maybe it's Asian. It goes like this: if Muhammad doesn't go to the mountain, it's the mountain that goes from him» she took his face in his hands «and you are Muhammad, if I hadn't understood him» she cancelled the distance, kissing him.

Aziraphale moans by surprise, trying to escape that touch, but too clumsy to get up agile. He ended up submitting to that kiss, reciprocating.

Anathema's lips were soft and smooth, different from those of Oscar. She didn't notice with what ardor he had reciprocated, forcing her to lean against the back of the sofa. It was a brief second that brought him back to reality.

He snapped off his flushed lips with a snap, leaping back, «I-I'm mortified, I shouldn't have» he stammered. He had been an angel, a disrespectful _man_! He couldn't look her in the face, too embarrassed. His reputation wasn't already spotless, but after that...

«Aziraphale, look at me» he heard himself called. Those words turned out to be an order and he obeyed, looking back and looking at her again.

«Don't feel guilty, I'm the one who asked you. Besides, I don't think it was bad for you, right?»

The angel swallowed empty. Kissing for him was a very intimate gesture, which had to be done with a person with whom you had a deep relationship. There was a time when he had loved Oscar, but you? She was very beautiful, with deep eyes and raven hair like the night. His intelligence touched his, he fed on it during their literary encounters.

Could this be considered love? He had no idea.

«That doesn't take away the fact that it's wrong» he said.

«Wrong for whom? You've been here for six thousand years and you haven't fully experienced anything»

«'m an ang-»

«Stop saying that, because you're just using it as an excuse. The truth is that you are afraid, even if you don't want to admit it».

Aziraphale looked her in the eyes, finding determination, sincerity. He had always lived in the shadow of the world, for fear of being judged again, of not doing the right thing. But what was the right thing? He was inept, that's what he was. He clenched a fist, until he whitened his knuckles «you don't know what it means to be created for a higher good. Always doing the right thing, following the teachings that have inculcated you. To make a false step would condemn me»

He saw her smiling bitterly, badly placing her glasses on the low table «I don't know what that means? I was born to avoid the Apocalypse. Since I was a child I was forced to study prophecies. A little girl who knew every damned prophecy of Agnes by heart. You think I don't understand you?»

His gaze made him tremble. In the background they were not so different, although they were of two totally different realities. _Perhaps it was that which bound them together, which made them so similar._

And at that moment little mattered to him to submit to a code of conduct that was too strict for him, to ignore once again his beating human heart and finally do the right thing for him.

He took her face in his hands and kissed her again. First it was sweet, delicate, just light touches, then the heat took over, becoming a real battle of lips and tongues.

He was chaste, Aziraphale, because he was obliged not to go further, suffering a lot. What had he done it for? Apparently for nothing. He was and would remain a weak angel.

His hands descended to his hips, caressing them. She felt his hands clinging to her shoulders when he kissed her neck, panting slightly. That high-pitched whisper did nothing more than send a shock to his lower abdomen, discovering himself excited.

And how could he not be if he had such a beautiful and intelligent woman in his arms?

She realised that the dark dress that covered her from her neck to her feet was not at all easy to take off. Without being seen, she snapped her fingers, allowing the buttons to come out of the buttonholes.

With rather clumsy movements he removed it, revealing his soft, amber-coloured body covered in black underwear. He blushed a lot at that vision, jumping when he felt the delicate hand of the witch touching his crotch.

«I want to see you too» he whispered, taking off his light-coloured jacket.

«N-Not a pretty sight. I mean, I eat a lot and I don't think that-»

«Let me decide that» he unbuttoned his white shirt, freeing his light and soft chest «oh Aziraphale...» She touched with his fingers the light hairs «you are beautiful».

The angel was surprised, but then smiled. An athletic body was perhaps not enough. And those words did him good for his self-esteem, soothing centuries of humiliation from his faction.

«Ana, dear, will you allow me?» he made her lie under him, caressing his skin, which reacted to his touch as if it were crossed by an electric shock.

«You're still dressed...» she murmured, looking at her body.

«We'll remedy this right away» he snapped his fingers, wearing only boxer shorts, also simply white, but which left little to the imagination. Precisely for this reason he saw the witch dwell on that _little_ detail and blush.

«You are gifted» was not a question, but a simple observation.

«Well... I think they were very generous up there» he tried not to stutter again, it would have been ridiculous «anyway, I think nature has done a perfect job with you»

Anathema blushed, wearing her hair messed up backwards «you're kind».

«Only sincere. Now... can we continue?» he would stay and talk for hours with her, but his human body began to suffer from that stalemate.

«Absolutely» she carried his hands behind her shoulders, feeling a _tick_. Shortly afterwards the bra fell off, leaving her breasts free.

His throat became as barren as a desert, at the vision of that _good of God_ exposed, only for him. Instinctively his hands clutched around being, palpitating their softness, making it moan.

He continued to do so, more and more involved. He wanted to take everything away from her, to find out what was hidden. He touched her black lace panties, asking with his eyes for consent, which came soon after.

Aziraphale had never seen a woman's body in its entirety, but he doubted that that perfection would reside in every woman. Anathema was perfect, physically. Perfectly proportioned and round in the right places.

He finished undressing too, now impatient.

«I-I'm not an expert»

He saw her smile, caressing his cheek «I'll guide you...» she spread her legs, discovering her excitement. She took him upstairs, inviting him to take her. And so it happened that an angel from Paradise discovered the most ancient of arts.

«Ah... ah...» each thrust was marked by a high-pitched groan of her and lower than him. He didn't think she was so pleasant and passionate.

They kissed a lot, during that intercourse, choking the moans on each other's lips.

It was so exciting for Aziraphale. His first time ever, with a woman he cared about particularly.

They reached the apex almost at the same time, tightening up at the most intense moment.

Aziraphale collapsed on her breasts, tired but very satisfied, as did her _lover,_ whose heart was beating fast, like hers.

When they calmed down they looked up, smiling.

«It was very nice»

«Yes, very much. What about now, do you like women?»

«Hmm... only you» he admitted, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

«Oh... I'm flattered, thank you» she stroked her sweat-drenched curls, discovering that she loved them «so... was it a one-night stand?»

«One...? Oh no, I'm not the kind of person who makes such _mean gestures»_ he said outragedly «I'd like it to happen again» to the very exhaustive look on her face «I-I meant date, yes! Maybe we could go out to eat, do everything politely».

«You really are an old-fashioned Aziraphale man... fine by me»

«I'm a man, full stop» he said of course «I'm glad you accepted, you're really a wonderful person»

«Never like you» kissed the back of his hand, lingering with his lips on his skin «how long do you think it can last?»

She heard him sighing, staring deeply at her «as much as possible, my dearie»

Anathema reached out his arm, taking the open book on that page «at the end this poem is suitable for us. The death of lovers. But there is something different»

«What?» he saw her smiling melancholyly.

«That the angel who will take me away from this world will be my own lover»

«Oh. Come here» he kissed her forehead, making her face rest on her chest «it's all right, it'll be all right»

«Hold me like this, in your arms, till the end»

« I promise you»

_We will have beds full of light scents,_

_sofas as deep as graves,_

_and on the shelves strange flowers,_

_unveiled for us under more beautiful skies._

_In competition by burning the extremes of ardor,_

_will be our hearts two great torches,_

_mirrored by their double lights_

_in our spirits, twin mirrors._

_An evening of pink and mystic blue,_

_we will exchange a single glow,_

_like a long hiccup, severe goodbyes;_

_and an Angel later, opening the doors,_

_happy and faithful will come to revive_

_the blurred mirrors and dead flames._

_[Charles Baudelaire]_

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, I hope you enjoyed this story.  
> Shimba


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